Perfect Alli: June 9, 2013

Alli: June 9, 2013

When Sarah dropped me at Thor’s apartment yesterday, I had already passed all the tests with my parents. They wanted an agenda for the trip with hotels and flights, but that was easy enough to fake and they seemed satisfied with what I had worked up. I told them that Megan was taking care of all the costs and I was just going as a favor to her. By the time I was done, they were completely convinced that Megan and I were flying into Los Angeles and renting a car so we could visit graduate schools. They even gave me spending money—$300 and I had my credit card (which they pay) just in case. I wondered if they would notice when the charges came from Mexico instead of California.

Sarah’s pep talk, in the car, helped me get centered. She reminded me that I was in charge and that I should always stay in my comfort zone.

“Thor is a guy and will push for what he can get, but that doesn’t mean anything. Just have fun,” she said.

I laughed because since Sarah’s breakup with her high school boyfriend she rarely dated. And for Sarah, love was required to give into the male determination. Maybe that’s why Internet dating worked for her—no pressure. I’m not Sarah though. Love just complicates life. Not that I would know. I’ve never been in love—never taken the time to see if it was even possible. I don’t think my parents love each other. At least not in the passionate way depicted in the movies. They tolerate one another and coexist in a symbiotic lifestyle that benefits them both. They’ve spent twenty-one years molding me into their likeness. Am I destined to settle for comfortable?

Once, when I was in high school, I walked in on Sarah’s parents making out in their kitchen—David’s hand on his wife’s ass, pulling her up into the kiss. Lust burned in their eyes even after I disturbed them. I was sixteen. I didn’t know passion existed inside a marriage. I stared wide-eyed at them as they laughed off my interruption. I’d never seen it at home. My parents’ idea of affection was a peck on the cheek or coming home at the end of a long workday and sharing a meal.

I think about Thor, and wonder if he and his ex had been together for so long that their hunger dissolved into coexistence? Unlike my parents Thor seems very passionate and why else would Nora cheat? From the little I’ve seen of him I can’t imagine a need to stray, but then again, I’ve never met his brother Harry. He must be amazing.

Thor didn’t talk much on the flight. We mostly slept. If I ever get married (which I doubt I will), I will not be spending my wedding night on an airplane. The idea is completely asinine. Exhausted from planning and executing the “most important day of your life,” you get on a plane—where you breathe air that has already been through three other people’s lungs—and then you spend a week in a foreign country popping vitamin C tabs trying to boost your immune system enough so that your exhausted body doesn’t cecum to whatever disease you were exposed to on your flight. Luckily Thor and I didn’t have the stress of a wedding. I did bring my vitamin C, though.

We’re lying on the beach right now, after getting into the hotel a couple of hours ago. Thor is sleeping on a lounge chair next to me, which allows me to examine his body more carefully. It really is quite beautiful. He definitely lifts weights…and does crunches, possibly in preparation for his honeymoon, but maybe more long term. He’s started a beard this week, but it’s perfectly groomed, like his hair. His hair. How does it stay flawlessly in place even while he sleeps? It makes me want to run my fingers through it just to mess it up. He would be the perfect picture of a man if not for his swim trunks. Big red hibiscus flowers on a turquoise background—yuck. The length alone dates his shorts, but the pattern is at least three seasons past its prime. I will have to find him something more current. Fashion is the one thing I can fix.

The sun threatens to sneak under the giant umbrella shading the two of us. Even though I have slathered on the sunscreen, I know I can’t sit here much longer without altering the shadow-maker. OK. I got up and fixed it. Thor didn’t even move. We should have another hour before I have to readjust. The view from our cover is unbelievable—white sand, crystal clear water and blue sky for as far as I can see. I forgot how loud the ocean is. The noise from the constant battering of the waves is like Melatonin on my brain, pushing me to sleep. I’m too anxious to give in though—worried about the sleeping arrangements or more accurately, the non-sleeping arrangements for the evening. I figure it will go one of two ways. Either Thor will be thinking about her and be too depressed to try anything with me or he’ll want to completely wrap his mind (or whatever) around me to forget her. I hate not knowing what to expect. I guess I’ll just have to plan for both. I’m in charge, right?
Copyright 2014 Susan Schussler